


tender belongings

by rillaelilz



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, Post-Quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 04:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12051417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rillaelilz/pseuds/rillaelilz
Summary: For the first time, Fili looks like he belongs here, set in this gilded frame like the last missing piece of a puzzle.





	tender belongings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [girlmarvel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlmarvel/gifts).



> Just a little scribble for my bro :3 She wanted firelight, so firelight she got <3

 

 

Kili doesn’t get to see this every night.

Usually, he’ll come back to their chambers to find Fili still at his desk, bent over endless papers; sometimes so tired that he risks dozing off right there on top of them, quill and dust and all.

Tonight, Kili has to blink a few times just make sure that the solid, gold-framed figure sitting peacefully by the fireplace is real, and actually _there_ , there where he sees it - eyes shut and body relaxed in blissful repose.

It’s such a rare sight these days, Kili can hardly remember when he last saw Fili like this.

Perhaps it was two winters ago, when they were healing from their battle-wounds; but Fili had been different then. There had been shadows in his eyes, and a secret restlessness had shown here and there, in little gestures, in impatient looks and thrumming fingertips, breaching his quiet mask when Fili was too tired to pretend.

It could have been during the journey, but there was no time for luxuries and laziness back then; only vigilant eyes, the tight curls of smoke from Fili’s pipe, and their fingers twined together when Kili joined him to keep watch through another moonless night.

It must have been when they were still home then, back in the Blue Mountains, Kili tells himself. _A lifetime ago_.

He pauses by the door, drinking in the sight before him, soaking up the sheer sense of peace that radiates from his brother.

He takes in the relaxed limbs and the soft furs lined over Fili’s chest, parted to show clean cotton and milky skin underneath; the gentle glint of Fili’s beads, catching golden light and twinkling like tiny stars in his loose silken hair.

He watches firelight dance over the dips and planes and dimples of Fili’s face, sees it flicker over his closed eyes and neat beard and tangle in the luscious fall of his hair, and Kili knows he’s never seen Fili look like this; not for a long time now. Looking so serene, so at ease -- so _at home_ in his armchair.

It fills Kili’s heart with tenderness and wonder. For the first time, Fili looks like he _belongs_ here, set in this gilded frame like the last missing piece of a puzzle. And when Fili opens his eyes and they crinkle at the corners with his smile, Kili finds himself chained to the spot.

“Kili,” his brother calls, with those blue, blue eyes of his smiling up at Kili, sleepy and sweet and fire-touched.

“Come here,” Fili beckons, arms outstretched as if to catch Kili and maybe pull him in a dance, like he did this past Durin’s Day, “ _come to me._ ”

His voice is so soft, Kili follows it like he would in a dream.

He reaches the hearth with quiet steps, soundless on the pelts Thorin had laid out for them. He takes Fili’s hands in his own, climbs in his lap a little clumsily, wedging his knees in the snug gap between Fili’s thighs and the chair, and brings Fili’s knuckles to his lips.

His brother’s smile widens, impossibly sweet.

“Take me to bed,” Fili whispers like it’s a secret they must keep from the grown-ups, beaming, and his nose crinkles in that special way it only ever does when Fili’s truly, genuinely happy. Kili’s heart still skips a beat when it happens.

He leans in, dark hair spilling off his shoulder to brush against Fili’s cheek.

“Kiss me first,” Kili demands, low and thick and on the brink of giggles.

Fili curls ink-stained fingers on the nape of Kili’s neck, pulling him close, until he’s only warmth and breath and golden flecks of firelight glimmering in blue, half-lidded eyes.

“If I must,” Fili murmurs, bringing their lips together. Kili finds himself chuckling in the kiss, but that doesn’t matter. They share many more on that armchair; and maybe more than kisses, after all.


End file.
